


Until The End Of Time

by amyfortuna



Category: Moulin Rouge! (2001)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Love, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-04
Updated: 2001-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last day of Satine's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until The End Of Time

"You are dying, Satine." The words, in Harry's voice, were cold, but steady. I heard someone make a small sound of protest and realized after a moment that it was me. I turned, the universe quivering before my eyes. I dimly realized that I was coughing, and I struggled to suppress the pain in my chest.

Though I said his words might be a trick, I knew in my heart that they were not.

Someday I'll fly away. I thought it would be tonight, and with Christian, but no. It shall be a far colder flight, into dream and shadow. And I shall die, and dreams shall end.

It is my fate.

Ice entered my body, and I felt cold and dark, everything going into a dim haze around me. Marie hovered beside me, fear written on her face. But no, Marie, I cannot die now. I will not die now.

I had seen this coming for many months. Since the night I met Christian. I tried to brush it off with complaints about the costumes, or the air in the room, or the pressure I was under, but I knew. Knew something was very, very wrong with my body.

But when I was with Christian, nothing mattered. Time stopped. The universe was perfect and wonderful.

Tiny flashes of memory fly in front of my eyes. The two of us wrapped in a sheet and each other's arms, staring out the window in the early dawn, soaking in the warmth of the beauty of each other. Laughing in Toulouse's apartment over a bit of dialogue. Sharing an impromptu lunch in bed, one day when the Duke was obliged to be out of the city and we could be sure we were safe. Stolen kisses in my dressing room. Lipstick all over his face, that dreadful night that I was so sick. His love and trust in me, even when he had every reason to believe that I was with the Duke that night. His foolish promise not to be jealous. My amazement that he had tried his hardest not to be.

All those happy moments. And those would be the only happy moments I would ever know.

My desire to be a "real actress" had been pushed to the background in the face of my love for Christian. I would now rather have lived on the street than live without him.

But I wasn't going to live. There were no choices to make. All I could do was try to save Christian from the wreck of my life. Maybe if he believed I didn't love him, it would not only spare his own life, but also spare him the pain of my impending death.

Slowly I sank onto the sofa, and promptly fell asleep, still watched over by Marie.

*****

In the morning I carefully repaired my flaking makeup, donned my warmest dress (it was so cold, so cold that day), and made my way through the workers to the front of the Moulin Rouge, and out the door. I found myself at Christian's "humble abode" far too soon, and opened the door without knocking. He looked at me as though I were a stranger.

And face to face with him, I found it very difficult to pretend, to lie. There was something in him that called out the honesty of everyone he met.

Almost I broke down. I gathered my strength together, looked him in the eye, silently thinking "it's for you, my love, for your life," and told him that I was the Hindu courtesan and I chose the maharajah.

I left him heartbroken. I hoped I convinced him. I wasn't one for prayer, but my heart was pleading with God to keep him safe and far away from the terrible Duke, at whose hand I had suffered enough.

Now it was just to get through the day and the show.

Busy as the day was, I took a few moments out of it in the early afternoon, to write a letter to Christian. I could not have him think I was leading a merry life as the mistress of the Duke, after I had died. I wanted to tell him I loved him one last time.

"Dearest Christian," I wrote, "By the time you read this I will be dead. I did not tell you, but I have consumption. I did not know myself until very recently."

"Please forgive me for my deception. I wanted to save you the pain of losing me. I never stopped loving you, come what may, I promise you. I still love you, from beyond the grave, and I see you happy, I pray."

"My heart is too full of the words I want to say, and I think I've said many of them to you already. But this remains: I love you. Not until my dying day, beyond it. While the stars shine above us, I will love you. Forever, Christian, I promise."

I signed the letter, and gave it to Chocolat, with an injunction to give it to Christian after my death. I also entrusted Chocolat with making sure that whatever money I had was given to Christian. I had many jewels and other gifts that belonged to me alone, not Zidler, and I wanted to be sure that Christian got them.

And so the afternoon passed, without a word from Christian, Zidler, or the Duke. I was too busy to think, and was constantly interrupted by fits of coughing. Marie gave me dose after dose of her medicines, just to keep me on my feet.

When the performance started, I searched the audience for any sign of Christian. I did not see him, and breathed in a sigh of relief. He had not come, then, and was safe.

It was a shock to see him appear in my dressing room, money in hand, obviously wounded to the quick, demanding why he shouldn't pay me like all the rest of my customers. I went pale.

"No, Christian, there's no point," I said as calmly as I could. "Just go!"

He refused. We stumbled, somehow, to just behind the doors of the stage, and fell out into the lights in front of the audience. I gasped my horror at the situation, but he appeared to be master of it. He gestured to Zidler, but was looking straight at the Duke.

"This woman is yours now," he said. Pulling out the money he carried, he threw it at me, where it drifted down over my dress. "I owe you nothing," he went on, speaking to me now. I looked up at him, not believing my ears. "And you are nothing to me."

And the love of my life stalked off the stage, and down the aisle, pulling off the coat of the sitar player.

I could only shake my head. I felt as weak as water. Harry had to literally pull me to my feet. I was breathless and shaking.

He said his line, and I pulled away from him, trying to stand up enough to get breath in my lungs.

And suddenly there was a crash, and Toulouse's voice shouting from above, "No! The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!"

Just to love. I began to sing.

Somewhere in the middle of the first verse, I found my strength. I forgot that Christian was going to be killed, forgot about the audience, forgot about everything except that my heart, my love, my life was walking away from me.

"Come back to me, and forgive everything!" My chest caught on the last note, and I tried to breathe, gasping for a moment. "Seasons may change, winter to spring, but I love you, 'til the end of time."

Christian turned back to me.

And that moment was the greatest I have ever had. He took up the song on the chorus, walking back up the aisle to me.

The joy that filled my heart could not be contained. We caught each other's hands, went into each other's arms, kissing. Laughing. The universe consisted only of the two of us. We were blissfully unaware of anything else.

The other actors must have guided us through the short bit of play remaining, because I don't remember any of it, just Christian's laughing eyes meeting mine.

And the curtain fell to thunderous applause. We were gathering ourselves for curtain call when the sky dropped in on me. I stumbled. My breath caught. And suddenly I could not breathe. At all. I took in a choked gasp, and collapsed into Christian's arms, senseless.

A moment, and I revived. But I knew, deep inside, that this was all. There would be a curtain call for me tonight, but it would not be at the Moulin Rouge.

Christian was panicked and sobbing above me, having seen the blood on my lips. But I was calm.

"You've got to go on, Christian," I said. "You've got so much to give."

"Can't go on without you, though," he told me, face breaking into tears.

"Yes," I insisted. "Promise me. Tell our story, Christian, that way I'll always be with you."

He nodded, sobbing, and my eyes closed, gently. There was no pain. I only felt Christian's arms around me as I sank peacefully into the warmth of death.


End file.
